


Meet The Family

by aya_modj (ariales)



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack-ish, F/M, Multi, grimmjow is the bomb, let's make fun of ichigo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-06-04
Updated: 2008-08-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariales/pseuds/aya_modj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo learned that if you want to win a girl’s heart, you have to court her family first. Unfortunately, the Kuchiki clan is not your usual family. And like hell, they’re going to give her up to someone like him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Posted here for archiving purposes. Originally posted last August 2008.  
> beta by catharticdeficit

 

 

* * *

The good thing about being in your own rented apartment was the freedom that came along with it. Yes, there were still some rules they had to follow, like no having parties without getting permission from the other tenants, or the no-pets-allowed policy, both of which Ichigo didn’t really mind. Because, really, as if he has the time and money to hold a party or take care of dogs right now.

Unless, of course, you count Renji and Grimmjow as pets. But whatever.

Considering that they had just started renting the place for the past two weeks, they had already established good rapport with the other tenants. Like Sado Yasutora, who despite his size, was a decent guy. There was Asano Keigo who was a pretty weird guy but okay. And Kojima Mizuiro who Ichigo knew back in grade school. And then there was Ishida Uryuu who –

Ichigo paused.

Well, he thought reluctantly, yes, despite everything, even Ishida was okay.

Ichigo looked around the already messy room: two bunk beds by the window, an old 20-inch colored TV, a wooden table, a small fridge beside the desktop computer on the corner and the dressers that were already filled with their clothes thrown inside.

“Oi,” Renji said as he crouched in front of the cabinet, “where the hell did my blue t-shirt go?”

“What?”

“My lucky blue t-shirt,” Renji repeated impatiently. “The one I wore during our graduation.”

“Geez. Do I look like I take note of every shirt you wear? I don’t know. Did you have one in the first place?”

“Obviously. Or I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” Renji shoved his hand inside and grabbed a handful of already-crumpled shirts. He stared at it. “I need my lucky shirt right now, Ichigo.”

Ichigo sighed. “Renji. Look. I don’t borrow shirts from you. And if I did, I would have asked. I wouldn’t risk wearing something that you already wore from the previous day. Maybe you left it in the Laundromat?”

“No, I just saw it here the other day.”

“Ask Grimmjow then.”

Renji snorted. “As if he needs my lucky shirt. Where the hell would he want to use –”

The door opened and a tall, muscular blue-haired wearing a leather jacket slid into the room and flopped down on the bed.

“So,” Grimmjow drawled, “guess what I did last night?”

There was a pause as Renji and Ichigo glanced at each other.

“Um. You broke out of jail?” Ichigo asked innocently.

“You met an annoying bastard and beat the hell out of him. Then you threw the body in the river?” Renji wondered.

“Or you went into a restaurant and didn’t pay for the food?” Ichigo ventured.

“He does that?” Renji asked in exaggerated incredulity, widening his eyes.

Grimmjow’s eyebrow twitched. He striped off his jacket and narrowed his eyes. “You know,” he said wistfully, throwing his jacket on the clothesbasket on the corner, “it’s really a wonder why I haven’t killed the two of you yet.”

“I think it’s because we’re the only two people in this world who let you stay with us here for free,” Ichigo commented.

Grimmjow scowled.

Renji stared at him. “Grimmjow, you asshole. You’re wearing my shirt.”

Grimmjow stared blankly at him. “What?”

“My shirt,” Renji said in an almost frantic voice. “I need that. I’ve got a fucking History test today with Aizen and you’re wearing my fucking lucky t-shirt. How am I supposed to pass now?”

Grimmjow glanced down at the shirt he was wearing where it said: _I know I’m hot. Can you please stop staring?_

“Oh, for crying out loud. It’s just a stupid shirt,” Grimmjow said annoyed. “I saw it on the floor, okay. It wasn’t in your cabinet or anything. I have nothing else to wear and it didn’t smell bad, so I took it. No need to get your ass bundled up.”

“And what am I supposed to wear now?” Renji demanded in near hysterics. “I’ve been wearing that shirt every time I have a test. I am so going to fail today. _So_ going to fail.”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. He pulled the shirt off him and threw it at Renji. “Here. Get a life and stop whining.”

Renji grimaced as he grabbed the shirt that hit his face. “Oh God. Wash it first,” he growled as he threw it back.

“Do you know,” Grimmjow said, standing up. “Blue isn’t exactly your color? It makes you look like a walking freaking eyesore.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes from his bed by the window. “You guys,” he cut in as Grimmjow opened his mouth to retort, “you do realize that you two sound like a couple of teenage girls fighting over clothes, right?”

“Shut up Ichigo. Like you never had any clothing emergencies before,” Renji retorted. “As if we could all forget that incident where you threw a tantrum and wouldn’t get to school because your Barney underwear was missing?”

Ichigo stared at him. “Renji. Why are you bringing up something that happened when I was seven years old?”

“Cause he’s really an idiot,” Grimmjow offered. “There’s nothing we can do about it. Believe me, I tried.”

“Are you accusing me of being stupid?”

“Oh God, Renji. No. Why would I do something like that?”

Ichigo let out a sigh and glanced outside the window instead. Listening to the two of them bickering was amusing during the first few days that they were together. But over time, it was getting pretty tiring. Like watching reruns of _The Three Stogies._ He scratched his head and was about to lie back down on the bed when he something caught his eye. He turned and stared outside the window.

An old lady was walking along the sidewalk when a masked man suddenly swooped on her, grabbing her handbag. The lady yelped and slipped as the man ran.

“Hey,” Ichigo couldn’t help but bark. He stood up swiftly, and hit his head on the railing of the upper bunk bed. His eyes watered in pain and he quickly clutched his head, wincing in pain. “Ow.”

“What the hell are you doing Ichigo?” Grimmjow wanted to know.

“What’s going on?” Renji asked as he walked forward and glanced outside the window. Grimmjow peeked behind him.

“What are you looking at?” Grimmjow asked.

Ichigo ignored them and instead ran towards the window and opening it, ready to shout for help when the words died at his mouth. He gaped in wonder as he saw a young girl he didn’t noticed earlier throwing a swift, clean kick on the man’s groin. Twice.

The three of them simultaneously winced.

The man clutched his manhood and fell face flat on the ground. They watched as the girl stepped forward, taking the handbag from the lying man. She gave him a quick slap on the head before placing a foot on his back to prevent the thief from standing up, then, turned at the old lady.

Ichigo couldn’t hear what the two women were talking about, but he could see the grateful smile the old lady gave the younger one as she accepted her bag back. The young girl simply smiled, shaking her head while all the time stomping her feet that was still on the man’s back.

Renji whistled as a crowd started to surround the young girl and the thief.

“That was one scary woman,” he commented.

“A monster,” Grimmjow agreed.

Ichigo stared at the scene outside and watched as the girl smiled at the onlookers before slapping the thief again on his nape.

“She’s cool,” Ichigo said.

* * *

Rukia opened the front door and peeked inside. She let her eyes roam around.

“Coast’s clear,” she murmured. She stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind her. She took a tentative look at the kitchen and when she didn’t saw anyone, she tiptoed towards the stairs.

This was perfect. No one would ever find out what happened. All she needed to do now was to go straight to her room, pretend to be sleeping all that time she was outside and no one would be the wiser. She smiled.

God, she’s really getting really good at this thing. Sometimes, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she was a ninja or a swordswoman in her past life.

“You’re late.”

Rukia stopped in her tracks. She blinked and looked up guiltily. Ulquiorra was standing on the very top of the stairs with his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

“Um,” Rukia began, stalling for time.

“Didn’t you tell me you’re just going to be gone for an hour?”

“There some heavy traffic out there. I mean, even you would be coming home late too, if you were stuck there like I was,” she said defensively.

“I thought you just went to Inoue’s place.”

“I did!”

“Which is two streets away. And there was traffic?”

Oh. She forgot the part that they knew where she went. Damn. And it was a good excuse too. Rukia swallowed hard. “Well…”

Ulquiorra stared at her. He slowly walked down the stairs, only stopping until he was on the last step just above hers.

“Rukia.”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t get into another fight, did you?” He set his gaze at her and she tried to maintain his stare, which she was successfully able to accomplish for a period of two seconds. And then she blinked.

“Erm, gosh, no.” She widened her eyes. “Why would you think that? I just came from Inoue’s restaurant. I didn’t go anywhere else.”

“Right.”

Rukia paused. She nodded. “So,” she said brightly, slowly going up the stairs and passing him. “I guess I’ll be going to my room right now. I have a lot of homework to do and I have classes tomorrow –”

“So I suppose all that racket outside didn’t have anything to do with you?”

She stopped again. She turned around. “What racket?” she asked innocently. Unfortunately, he knew her too well to fall for that innocent-act. The frown on his face deepened.

“Something to do with a thief, an old lady, a handbag and a trip to the police station.”

“I don’t know what –”

“Rukia,” he said patiently. “The police called here to inform us what happened. Something to do with you being underage and how grateful they are that you were there.”

She felt her heart jump with hope. “Well,” she said modestly, “I just wanted to help the old lady –”

“And how you incapacitated the thief that he was brought to the hospital for a check-up. He was just told by the doctor not to expect any children in this lifetime,” he deadpanned.

“Serves him right,” she muttered.

“You did not only sent the man to prison – which I am proud of you for doing – but you managed to destroy a man’s future by hitting him where it mattered.” He crossed his arm again. “Didn’t you ever consider of using a more lady-like approach to stop him? Like asking for help, perhaps? You were just at the end of the street, Rukia. You should have called me.”

“But I can handle him by myself,” she replied sullenly.

“What if something bad happened? You could have been in danger. You could have been hurt.”

“Oh please,” she said rolling her eyes. “Look. Just because you were born two minutes earlier than me doesn’t mean you can tell me what I should and should not do.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Maybe it was a mistake letting you join that karate club,” Ulquiorra said, ignoring her comment. “I’m going to have a talk with nii-sama later.”

“Wha-?” She widened her eyes in alarm. “You don’t have to tell nii-sama about this. I won’t do it again. I just wanted to help that lady. Telling him about this would be useless –”

“I agree Rukia,” came a low, deep voice behind her. She stiffened. She shut her eyes for a moment before turning. Byakuya stood in front her, his face devoid of any emotion. “There’s no need to tell me. I heard everything perfectly.”

Rukia gaped at him.

“So,” he said blankly. “You were in a fight?”

She could feel her heart pounding. Her hope of joining the karate tournament felt like it was slipping within her fingers. All because she helped an old lady who was in need.

She seriously wouldn’t offer her help to anyone anymore. Rukia bit her lip. “I’m sorry I’m late?” she tried again.

Byakuya and Ulquiorra frowned at her.

* * *

The library was practically deserted when Ichigo entered. He went to the Fiction Section, and headed straight towards the S portion.

“Let’s see,” he murmured as he ran his finger on the shelf, staring at the titles of the books in front him. “Shakespeare… Shakespeare… Where the hell do they keep Shakes – ” He suddenly yelped as his foot caught on something hard. He grabbed at the ledge to keep himself from stumbling.

“What the hell -?” Ichigo turned around and his gaze fell on a sleeping figure on the floor with a stack of books propped up as pillows. He squinted and stepped forward. And then he paused.

“Rangiku-san?”

There was a pause. Then, she stirred and slowly opened her eyes. She blinked groggily at him.

“Ichi?”

His eyebrow twitched slightly. “I told you not to call me that,” he muttered. Rangiku brightened. And then, she lunged at him.

“Ooh, Ichigo,” she crooned, taking his head on her chest as she hugged him, “I’ve missed you so much. And you’ve grown! It just feels like yesterday when I last babysit for you before.”

“Mnfmmfnmf!”

“Yes,” she sniffed, pulling him closer. “I know you miss me too. Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder what you would do without me in your life.”

“Mnfmmfnmf!”

“You must be wishing right now that you were ten again, right?” Rangiku nodded. “Yes, yes. I understand. If it’s any consolation, you can always come to my place and we’ll eat cookies with milk like we did before. Isn’t that nice?”

“Mnfmmfnmf!”

Rangiku frowned and pulled him away from her. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” she demanded. “We haven’t seen each other for months and you ignore me? How rude! This isn’t the way I taught you how to respect others.”

Ichigo gasped for breath and leaned back on the shelf. “I’m dying,” he wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”

She stared at him. “Oh my God, Ichigo? Are you sick?” she asked in horror.

He glared at her. “You,” he panted as he pointed at her uniform that was only buttoned halfway. “Cover… yourself… up,” he gasped.

“Eh?” She frowned. “But it’s too hot.” She adjusted her chest. “And they can’t breathe if I keep them constricted for too long.”

“Well _I_ can’t breathe if you don’t cover yourself.”

She sighed. “God, Ichigo. You’re so edgy,” she observed.

Ichigo decided not to reply anymore to save his sanity. He took a deep breath, tried to regain his composure and frowned at her. “What are you doing here anyway?” he growled, keeping a good two feet away from her.

“Me?” She smiled. “I’m working as a student volunteer here in the library.”

He stared at her. “Student volunteer?”

“Uh-huh.” She yawned. “It’s a pretty boring job. But it pays well and it has a lot of benefits, so… here I am!”

His gaze fell on the stack of books she had used as pillows. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping them in the shelves?” he asked cautiously.

She glanced at it and waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll fix it later. I was reading a book a while ago but I feel asleep.” She sighed. “I really don’t like books.”

Ichigo twitched. “Then why did you decide to work here?”

“I told you, it pays pretty well for a boring job,” she said breezily. “And I get to sleep in the corner and no one would notice!”

“Should I tell the library head of what you’re doing?” he wondered loudly.

She merely looked confused. “Huh?” Ichigo rolled his eyes.

“Never mind,” he said, turning around to face the books again. Rangiku cocked her head and watched him.

“Hey, Ichi?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“You’ve really grown so tall,” she said seriously. She stood up and raised a hand to measure his height with hers. “It’s so funny, because before, you were just a tiny twerp the size of my legs. But now, you’re taller than me.”

“It’s called hormones. Boys are generally taller than girls, Rangiku-san,” he replied wearily, as he reached for a book on the top shelf.

“Hnn.” She blinked at him. “So. Does my Ichi have a girlfriend now?”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the image of the girl he saw yesterday flashed through his mind’s eye. Ichigo’s hand slipped. “Wh-what?” He turned towards her. “What are you sprouting all that nonsen-”

Her face perked up. “You’re blushing,” she said delightedly. “You have one right? Right?” She walked towards him.

“Shut up,” he growled. “I have no time to think about that. Girls are just –”

“Is she cute?” Rangiku wanted to know.

“I told you –”

“Does she know you like to be sang lullabies before you sleep?”

“Rangiku-san, that was years ago.”

“Have you two kissed?” she continued excitedly, not listening.

Ichigo blinked at her. “Huh?”

Rangiku beamed at him. “Aww,” she crooned. “My little Ichi has grown so much.” She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “It suddenly made me feel old,” she sobbed.

“You do know that you’re not making any sense, right?”

But Rangiku, overwhelmed by the thought that Ichigo has a girlfriend (albeit an imaginary one), suddenly lunged at him again.

“My Ichi is growing up now,” she wailed, pushing his face into her chest again. “The next thing I know, you’re going to get married and you’re going to be a father –”

“Mnfmmfnmf!”

“And I’ll be your child’s godmother. I promise to give your daughter my beauty secrets so she would be as beautiful as me,” she continued fervently.

“Mnfmmfnmf!”

“And oh, Ichigo. Of all boys that I had baby-sit before, you’re the only one that I truly loved. Because you’re so cute with that orange hair of yours and the way your eyebrows knit making you look like a unibrow,” she sniffed, ignoring his protests amidst her chest. “Yes, Ichigo. I will never forget you –”

“Matsumoto?”

The low, deep voice cut through the air and Rangiku glanced at the speaker. Ichigo took the chance to save himself from asphyxiation. As he inhaled desperately, he looked up in time to see a tall, handsome guy staring at them, his face blank.

“I was wondering whether you’ve seen Professor Ukitake,” he said impassively. “He told me he’s going to be here.”

Rangiku straightened up and pushed her hair back gracefully. “He’s in the clinic. He was not feeling well this morning,” she said breezily. “Hey, Byakuya, have you finished with that Calculus homework?”

Byakuya stared at her. “Naturally.”

She smiled. “Oh good. I forgot to answer mine. I’m going to copy yours later, okay?”

If he could raise an eyebrow, Byakuya would have. But because he was damn Kuchiki Byakuya, he merely blinked at her. “I don’t think that’s a good -”

“Oh great,” Rangiku sighed. “Thank you so much. I haven’t been able to do my homework these past few days because of too much work here in the library. You’d think they would have increased our salary with the work they want us to do here by now.”

Ichigo glanced at her. _You’re not even doing anything. You’re just sleeping,_ he thought.

“Oh wait.” She squinted at him. “Since you’re the student council president, maybe _you_ could do something about it.”

Byakuya just stared at her. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said in a tone that told Ichigo that he has better things to do than increasing a lazy person’s salary. Which, Ichigo thought privately, he agreed with.

“Well that’s good.” She sighed again before flipping her hair back. “So. Is that all?”

“Yes,” Byakuya replied. He started to turn around, then paused. He glanced at Ichigo who blinked, then at Rangiku who yawned. “You know, if you two want to do something, better find a more _private_ room. The library is far too open for what you want to do.”

“Huh?” Rangiku raised an eyebrow, completely missing the point. Ichigo, on the other hand, felt his face flush.

“We’re not – I’m not – This isn’t what you think –”

“Well then,” Byakuya cut in coldly. “I better go and leave you two alone.” And he left, leaving a bored girl and a very mortified teenage boy.

Rangiku stared at Byakuya’s retreating back before she shook her head. “That guy’s pretty messed up,” she commented. “He seriously needs to loosen up.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to grow up,” Ichigo muttered. Rangiku didn’t seem to hear and instead, she turned and faced him.

“So,” she said brightly. “Do you want me to help you with your homework, Ichi?”

“Um, no. Thanks.”

* * *

“This dissertation would not only serve as your project but as a major quiz as well,” Professor Ushoda – or Hachi as students like to call him - was saying to his class. It was English time and the large, pink-haired man took out a small box with pieces of paper inside. He began shaking it as he spoke.

“You’re all going to have a partner in this project,” he said. “You can choose any classical story you want. I trust all of you to help each other in any way you can and not be a burden to your classmate.” He placed the box on his table. “Each one of you come up here and pick a paper. Each has a number written on it, and you will be paired with the one who got the same number as yours. You have the whole month to finish it.”

Renji yawned as he stretched his legs under his table. “Oi Ichigo,” he said. “D’ya think we’ll be lucky and get the smart ones as partners?”

Ichigo shrugged.

“Well I wish I’ll be paired with a smart one,” Renji drawled. “I don’t want to be the one dragging my partner’s ass to do the job with me.”

There was a snort from in front them and Renji scowled at the bespectacled guy sitting two seats from him.

“That’s funny, Renji,” Ishida Uryuu said amusedly. “I would have thought that you’re the one who’ll be doing all the sleeping throughout the project.”

“Well as long as I don’t get you as a partner Ishida, my life would be so much better,” he said seriously.

Ishida snorted again.

“Ichigo?” Chad spoke from beside Ishida. “Don’t you think you should wake Grimmjow up?”

Ichigo glanced at the snoring Grimmjow beside him, a bit of drool staining the notebook he was using as a pillow.

“Don’t worry Chad, he’ll wake up,” he assured him.

Chad looked doubtful. He glanced at the front where most of the class was already lining up to get a paper.

“Yeah. He’s a light sleeper.” Ichigo continued as he leaned and raised his shoe to nudge Grimmjow. “Oi. If Hachi catches you sleeping on his class again, he’ll put you in detention.”

Grimmjow stirred. He opened one eye and glared at Ichigo. “Can’t you see I’m sleeping?”

“Yeah. In class.” Ichigo stood up. “Come on, or we’ll be picking up the leftovers.” Grimmjow reluctantly rose, stretched his arms and followed him.

Ichigo reached the desk and picked a paper from the box. He waited until he was back on his seat before opening it. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ishida walking towards a pretty girl with long orange hair, holding the paper on his hand.

“What did you get?” Renji asked, eyebrow furrowed.

“Seven,” Ichigo replied.

“I got three,” Renji told him.

“Three?” Hinamori appeared behind him. “Abarai-kun, I got number three too.”

Renji sighed in relief. “Great,” he said sincerely.

Hinamori nodded and smiled at him. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

“Sure.” Renji looked at Grimmjow. “What about you Grim-”

“Six,” Grimmjow said blankly. Then he faced the class. “Hey, who’s the fucker who got number six?”

There was a short silence in the room.

“Grimmjow-san, please refrain from using such language in my class,” Professor Hachi said disapprovingly.

“I’m sorry sir. Won’t happen again, I promise,” Grimmjow apologized. “So, who’s the fucker?” he asked again.

A slender young man with black hair and deep, penetrating green eyes walked up to his desk. Grimmjow stared at him.

“What do you want?” he asked rudely.

“I’m the fucker who got number six,” he deadpanned. “The name’s Kuchiki Schiffer Ulquiorra.”

Grimmjow blinked at him. “That’s a freaking long weird name,” he commented. “Why can’t you have a normal name like Grimmjow Jeagerjaques?”

Ulquiorra merely stared at him.

“They seem to be hitting off perfectly,” said an amused female voice behind Ichigo. Ichigo turned around. And then he paused.

Standing in front him was the girl he saw helping the old lady yesterday. He blinked. She was his classmate? He thought incredulously. Why didn’t he notice her before?

But then again, Ichigo wasn’t the kind to socialize with his classmates that much so he guessed that shouldn’t come as a surprise. But seriously, why didn’t he notice her before?

“I heard you’re number seven,” she said, “so I came over here. I got seven too.”

He paused. “Oh.”

“I’m Kuchiki Rukia, by the way,” she said.

Rukia. Somehow, that name fits her. Somehow. “Kurosaki Ichigo,” he said, giving her a curt nod.

“So, we’ll be partners.”

“So,” he repeated. Then something made him stop. “Kuchiki?” He turned towards Grimmjow who was giving his stoic partner a look-over. “Are you related to that guy?”

She gave a short laugh. “He’s my twin brother. Fraternal,” she added when she saw him look confused. She shrugged. “Our family always has weird genes,” she continued conversationally. “You should meet the other members of our family. You’ll be surprised.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Right,” he said. “Actually, my younger sisters are twins too. So I guess, you two not looking alike shouldn’t be a shocker. I mean _it_ is possible. Fraternal and all that. ”

“Rukia.”

Ichigo and Rukia both turned around to see a frowning Ulquiorra, his gaze focused on his sister. “Do you want me to talk to Professor Hachi and ask him to make us partners instead?” he asked concernedly, pointedly ignoring Ichigo.

“Excuse me,” Grimmjow spoke lazily from his seat, “but are you implying that you don’t want me as your partner?”

Ulquiorra flicked his gaze at him for a fraction of a second before looking at Rukia again. “Rukia?”

Rukia looked thoughtful. “No,” she finally said. “I’m fine with him.” She jerked her thumb towards Ichigo. Ulquiorra stiffened.

“If this has something to do with the talk that we had yesterday –”

“Eh? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said innocently, widening her eyes. She smirked and slid into Ichigo’s seat, stretching her legs under the desk. “Well then, partner,” she drawled. “Let’s talk about what we plan to do with our project.”

Ichigo cocked his head and glanced at Ulquiorra who was staring at him with that creepy eyes of his, looking for all the world like Ichigo was some kind of a crazy bastard who’s about to plan something evil to his sister right in front of him. He swallowed hard. Talk about scary brothers.

“Look,” he began, “I’m not going to do anything to her and – ”

“Oi, Ulquiorra. Get your ass here so we could talk,” Grimmjow called. Ulquiorra’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly as he took one last look at Rukia who, in turn, was ignoring him. Then, he reluctantly walked back to Grimmjow’s desk.

Ichigo looked at Rukia who opened his book without asking for permission, and decided that yes, having Kuchiki Rukia would be better than having Ishida, Renji, that weird brother, or worse, Grimmjow as his partner. Ichigo sighed. He pulled an extra chair towards her and sat down.

A few days later, Kurosaki Ichigo would be wishing he should just have exchanged partner with her brother when he asked because that would have made his life more peaceful.

But that comes later.

 

 

 


	2. One Happy Family

 

“…So I told the bastard,” Grimmjow was saying with great enthusiasm, “ _Do you think I look like a fucker who’ll buy that shit for a hundred bucks? Huh!? Do you honestly think I’m going to fall for your trick and I’m going to buy that when I could get it half of your stupid price in other stores?;_ and the little bastard almost pissed on his pants, and began to apologize, and I was like _Do I look like a shithead who’ll just accept your apology because you said so?_ ; and he kept on saying _I’m fucking sorry sir, so fucking sorry –”_

“The salesman said he’s fucking sorry?” Ulquiorra cut in calmly.

“Well no,” Grimmjow amended, “but something like that. So anyway, I said _sorry my ass;_ then the stupid bitch didn’t let me pay anything for it. I got it for free – no, really, for free! – and I didn’t have to spend anything. God, the bastard was so stupid. Some people were just born losers. Hehe.”

Ulquiorra slowly blinked at him. “And that long speech was just to tell me how you got your alarm clock for free?” he asked blankly.

Grimmjow looked at him like he was crazy. “Duh. That was such an amazing clock. It still works even though I’ve thrown it against the wall for the past two months every time it wakes me up every morning. I have fond memories of that clock too. I remember when I threw it at Renji one time while he was sleeping because he was drooling on his pillow. He looked so pathetic.” Grimmjow snickered.

“I see. And what happened?”

“Oh the clock’s still fine. Told you it was amazing. Just had a couple of scratches, but otherwise perfectly working,” Grimmjow told him proudly.

“I meant what happened to your friend.”

“Oh.” Grimmjow made a derisive sound that almost sounded disappointed. “I missed.”

Ulquiorra raised his eyes to the ceiling and silently prayed for lightning to strike the exact spot in front him, right on a certain blue-haired classmate of his so he could end this torture without having his hands dirtied.

Grimmjow yawned. “So,” he began lazily. “What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

Ulquiorra’s eyebrow raised a fraction of a millimeter. He never knew this – _organism_ , for lack of a better word,would want to know about other people, especially since he had taken the past fifteen minutes talking about his alarm clock. He had said it was to get to know each other better. But seriously, what was with him and clocks, anyway? “Well,” Ulquiorra said slowly, “I like reading books. I love books. It –”

Grimmjow yawned again. “That’s nice,” he cut in, “but next time, try not to sound boring. Anyway, enough about your personal life. What are _you_ going to do in our project?”

There was a moment of silence as Ulquiorra struggled to understand what just had happened, but Grimmjow’s train of thought was just too far from his to comprehend. Because one second he was being asked to share something about his life, the next he was being called boring, and now they’re back to the project topic?

Ulquiorra blinked again. “Excuse me?” was all he could say.

“Dude, surely you don’t expect me to take you as my project partner if you’re just a lazy asshole who won’t help _me_ get a good grade.”

Ulquiorra stared at him. He can’t believe he’s actually stuck with this foul-mouthed, alarm clock-obsessed, lazy bastard who – from the past two weeks that school started – had been spending his English subject drooling on his desk. And now, _he_ had the guts to accuse him – he, _Kuchiki Schiffer Ulquiorra_ – of being a threat to his academic records? He stiffened.

“For your information, I am actually eligible to be in college right now,” he said stiffly. “If not for my sister, I wouldn’t be stuck here taking these classes when I am very well qualified for –”

“Your sister? You didn’t take the accelerated school track just because of her?” Grimmjow blinked at him, looking vaguely amused. “So, shit. You have a sister-complex?”

“I prefer the term ‘caring brother’, thank you very much,” Ulquiorra replied coldly. Speaking of which, he glanced at the back of the room where Rukia was already having a conversation with the orange-haired guy. He frowned. What was the guy’s name again? Kurotschi? Kurotani? Kuro-

Grimmjow followed his gaze. He stared at Rukia and Ichigo, then back at Ulquiorra before he frowned. “You’re the brother of that woman?”

Ulquiorra frowned back at him. “Not _woman_. Her name is Rukia and I would appreciate it if you don’t call her _woman_ again. It’s degrading and –”

“God, you really talk too much. No wonder people don’t really like you,” Grimmjow observed, sighing. “I was just saying that I saw her yesterday across our apartment. Pretty damn scary, if you ask me, giving that man a major kick in the –”

“I know what happened. No need to elaborate further.”

Grimmjow smirked. “I guess I better warn Ichigo about her then. Can’t risk having the Kurosaki name to end with him – not with that talent of hers.”

Ulquiorra pursed his lips in disgust. Seriously, was he really expected to put up with this… creature for the whole month? He sighed and eyed his sister who was smiling happily at her partner. He raised an eyebrow, frowning.

She had never smiled like that before, even at her own family.

“Are you his friend?” Ulquiorra asked Grimmjow who was not bothering to stifle a yawn.

“Who?”

“That guy.” Ulquiorra jerked his thumb towards Rukia as he stared at Ichigo with the concentration of a surgeon cutting up a person’s chest.

“You mean Kurosaki Ichigo? Yeah. We’ve been friends since way back.” Grimmjow narrowed his eyes and watched Ulquiorra for a moment, followed the other guy’s intense gaze, before blinking at Ulquiorra again. For a while, he fell silent. Then, a slow smirk crossed his haughty features, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Hang on. Wait. Wait a minute. Don’t tell me.” He snorted. “You like him. You’re interested in him, aren’t you?”

Ulquiorra whipped his head to stare at him. “Excuse me?” he said, affronted. “What did you just –”

“Sorry, but he’s only interested in the opposite sex.” He paused and eyed Ulquiorra thoughtfully. “Although, come to think of it, you do look like one, so hey. Maybe you have a chance.” He patted him consolingly on the back. “Good luck, huh?”

“I. Look. Like. A. Girl.” Ulquiorra repeated calmly after a long pause. “Did you just say _I look like a girl_?” he asked. “A girl?”

“I didn’t know you were this articulate,” Grimmjow looked up from picking his nails. “But yeah. Pretty much,” he assured him.

“And you think _I_ like your friend and that _I_ would be hitting on him if _I_ got the chance?” Ulquiorra asked again, very calmly, eyes boring straight into Grimmjow’s.

“A person who has a deep sister-complex like yours has some fucking severe identity issues. And the way you keep on staring at Ichigo is starting to make you look like a stalker,” Grimmjow nodded solemnly. “Hey, can I borrow a nail file?” Ulquiorra stared at him.

There was a rush of blood in Ulquiorra’s head. Is this… person implying that he, Kuchiki Schiffer Ulquiorra, is… well. _Gay_?

Grimmjow yawned and leaned back on his seat.

“I see.” Ulquiorra said after a full minute of silence where in he was thinking of the best way to eradicate this trash who dared speak to him like this. “I see.” He stood up, slowly took a step towards him, placed his hands on the desk as he leaned forward to stare deep into Grimmjow’s eyes and did a _very_ scary thing.

Kuchiki Schiffer Ulquiorra _smiled_.

Now, Ulquiorra is a very bright young man. A whiz kid. A genius. A prodigy. Insert more synonyms in here. The point was, despite his enviable intellect, Ulquiorra – deep down – was a very sensitive soul. Most people would actually even accuse him of being an _emo_ , but he begged to disagree. He was just a very passionate person, with a very passionate concern for the few things that matters to him in this world. So being the sensitive soul he was, it really hurt for him to be called such names that didn’t have any basis at all – and anyone who wants to call him emo one more time can go straight to hell.

(Actually, the last person to call him that was brought straight to the hospital. Ulquiorra paused. No wait, the person _before_ the last person who called him emo was the one brought to the hospital. The last one is still in therapy. But anyway.)

So one could just imagine what Ulquiorra was feeling at that moment when this foul-mouthed creature had implied that he was interested in his male friend – because Ulquiorra was one of the very manly-man people you would ever be fortunate to meet in this world. Not to mention, Grimmjow had already called him boring before (and we _all_ _know_ Ulquiorra is far from boring, thank you), but to imply that he’s attracted to a creature that has the same male physiology as his; with a person who has the same God-given gifts as him?? A man’s patience could only be stretched as much.

Now, there are times in a man’s life when he has to forgive all those who had wronged him and form a stronger bond with them in order to continue life with a more peaceful and nirvana-worthy soul.

This, however, was not one of those times.

So Ulquiorra, being the sensitive soul that he was, did the one thing any genius in his caliber would have done in that situation. His right foot connected hard with Grimmjow’s groin with a loud ‘thump’, and Grimmjow fell onto the floor, clutching at his pants, yelling.

“Oof,” Grimmjow groaned as the rest of the class hushed and watched him clutch his crotch. “Ow. The pain! Ow. I’m going to die. OW!” Ulquiorra looked at him with disgust in his usually stoic profile, and then without saying any other word, he turned around and slung his bag over his shoulder.

He walked out of the room just as the bell to signal the end of the class rang.

* * *

“Yo, Grimmjow,” Renji said as he poked his friend who was writhing on the floor. “Are you alive?”

“Ow,” Grimmjow growled, still in too much throbbing pain to say anything longer.

“Dude, your father’s going to be pissed if he finds out that you’re not going to be able to produce any babies in the future,” Renji cheerfully reminded. “He wants a grandson, remember?”

“Ow.”

Renji snickered.

* * *

“Is your friend going to be all right?” Rukia asked as Ichigo gathered his things. She glanced at Grimmjow who was showing his annoyance at Renji’s less-than-helpful comments by raising his middle finger.

“Don’t worry. He’ll live. He’s gone through worse things than a nutcracker,” Ichigo said, shrugging. “You haven’t met his dad.”

“His dad?

“Trust me.” Ichigo shuddered. “You don’t want to know.”

She paused before nodding. “I’m really sorry for what my brother did,” she said.

“Nah. If he got upset, must be Grimmjow’s fault. He’s not a very, er, tactful person.”

Rukia slowly went to her desk and grabbed her things. Ichigo was standing behind her, his hands on his pants’ pockets.

“So, don’t want to sound rushing or anything, but when will we start the project?” Ichigo asked, scratching the back of his head. “To tell you the truth, I do have a lot of other things to do this term with my part-time job and all. So if we could start right away, I’ll really appreciate it.”

“Oh.” Rukia cocked her head. “We could start as early as today, if you want. That way, we’ll be able to finish early.”

He glanced at her. “Great. I’ll wait for you in the library after school, then?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, but I have to go to work too. And my family tends to get all paranoid when I go home late.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“But if you want, we could do the project at our house,” she offered. “I’m not sure whether my brother would allow me to go anywhere without him, so why not at my place?”

He thought about this. “I guess that won’t be too bad. I’ll just have to call my manager to tell her I’ll be absent. You live across the Urahara Apartment, right?”

She looked surprised. “Yeah. How did you know?”

“I saw you yesterday. With the thief and the old lady,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I must say I’m pretty impressed.”

Her face broke into a smile. “Really?” she asked. “My family doesn’t approve of me doing stunts like that. They want me to be more lady-like or something stupid like that.”

“Ah.”

Rukia hugged her books to her chest. “So, see you later then?”

Ichigo nodded at her. “Yeah. Later.”

* * *

Ulquiorra crossed the cafeteria and placed his tray down on their usual table where his friends were already seated. He plopped down on the chair beside Rukia.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said just as Rukia opened her mouth. She frowned at him.

“Well. You’re old enough to know that what you did earlier was stupid. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“He provoked me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not easily provoked,” she remarked. “What did he say that made you so angry?”

He stiffened. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Rukia echoed. She nodded. “So you kicked him because he said nothing.”

Ulquiorra gave her a withering glare and she shrugged and shut her mouth. Then, after five seconds of silence, she turned towards him.

“Did he call you emo?” Rukia asked in concern. “Because I’m telling you, you should really smile more often. And stop talking about the latest in nuclear warfare or what’s the best way to take someone’s life. Some people actually don’t find it as appealing as you.” She paused. “And you really should do something with that hair.”

“I like my hair,” Ulquiorra said stubbornly. “It’s silky. And anyway, just drop it, Rukia.”

She sighed. “Fine. If you really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is there anything wrong?” Inoue, who was sitting on the other side of Rukia, asked in concern.

“Nothing,” Ulquiorra said.

“Eh? Did someone commented on your hair again, Ulquiorra-san?” Hanatarou asked.

“No.” Ulquiorra glared at him. “And stop hitting on my hair. I like it.”

“I know. I do too,” Hanatarou agreed earnestly. “It’s so beautiful. And silky.”

Ulquiorra gave him an odd look before scooting a little further away from him. He stared at the jelly on his plate for a moment, then after glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, he faced Rukia.

“Rukia. Do I look like a girl?” he muttered, trying very hard to stop his eyebrow from twitching. The fork that Rukia raised stopped halfway through her mouth. She stared at him.

“What?” she croaked.

“Do I look like a girl?” he asked again, waiting for her to reply. But the silence that filled his ears made him look up and that’s when he realized that the usual chatter around the table had stopped. He blinked at the stares his friends were giving him. If Ulquiorra was as eloquent as Grimmjow, he would have said ‘ _Oh fuck_. _Oh, I am so fucking dead’_ at the moment _._ But because he wasn’t Grimmjow, he merely blinked again and contented with an, “Oh” and left it at that.

No one spoke. All eyes were still on him, their forks and spoons halfway through their respective mouths. After what seemed like forever, he frowned. “Well?” he demanded in an effort to regain his dignity. “What are you looking at?”

The responses came almost instantaneously.

“Um, gosh, Ulquiorra-san,” Hanatarou said seriously, squinting hard at him. “I don’t think you look like a girl.”

“You look perfectly fine,” Inoue assured him. “You always look good.”

“Actually, I don’t mind looking like a girl,” Yumichika mused as he raised a glass of water and stared at his reflection on it. “But then again, I think I’ll always look beautiful whether I’m a boy or not.”

“Ulquiorra.” Chiruzu adjusted her glasses and got into her fan-girl mode. “Are you turning homo?” she asked wisely.

Hanatarou gasped. “Chiruzu-san!”

“Are you having an identify crisis?” Kira asked as his forehead creased. “I know this really good therapist who can help you. He’s got tons of certifications and awards that I’m actually thinking of following his footsteps. He just lives nearby and - ”

“Are you talking about Doctor Ichimaru?” Rukia asked blankly.

“Oh.” Kira looked surprised. “You know him too?”

She grunted before turning back to frown at her twin. “Was that why you kicked Grimmjow? Because he said you look like a girl?”

“Grimmjow?” Yumichika said before Ulquiorra could reply. He made a face. “I don’t like him. He’s too loud. He doesn’t have any trace of sophistication and elegance in him. He acts like a juvenile delinquent, if you ask me.”

“You’ve heard of him?” Ulquiorra stared at him.

“Who doesn’t?” Kira replied. “He’s the guy who _accidentally_ set fire on Professor Szayel’s chem lab last term, remember?”

“That was _him_?” Ulquiorra asked. He blinked. “He was the reason why we had to take our chemistry classes last term in the gym?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you know?” Kira shrugged. Ulquiorra opened his mouth to reply when a shadow fell over him.

“Hey.” Hisagi Shuuhei suddenly appeared from behind, and slid on the chair beside him, putting down his tray. “I heard you kicked someone.”

“Your best friend is going through a sexual identity crisis,” Yumichika informed him, delicately twirling a strand of hair on his finger as Chizuru continued to scrutinize Ulquiorra thoughtfully, murmuring “Seme. He’s definitely a seme. No wait. Maybe a uke. Yeah. He can be a really good uke.”

Shuuhei stared at Chizuru before glancing at Ulquiorra in concern. “What is a uke, Ulqui –?”

“Yumichika.” Rukia rolled her eyes.

“What? He’s asking us if he looks like a girl,” Yumichika replied breezily.

“Actually, he wasn’t even talking to you,” Rukia pointed out. Chiruzu licked her lips.

“Don’t be afraid to accept who you really are,” Chizuru told Ulquiorra, placing her hand on her chest. “You should follow your heart like what I did.”

Ulquiorra frowned at them before he looked at Shuuhei who raised an eyebrow. “Long story.”

Shuuhei shrugged and grabbed his spoon and fork. “Whatever. By the way Rukia, Kurosaki wants to know what time he’ll come to your house.”

Rukia choked on her food. All thoughts of hunting down Grimmjow and slashing his gut flew out of Ulquiorra’s mind. He stared at Rukia for a moment before facing Shuuhei. “Kurosaki? What did he ask?”

Shuuhei took his time in swallowing the beef. “He asked what time he’ll come to your house tonight,” he repeated.

Ulquiorra glanced at Rukia, who widened her eyes innocently at him. “We’re going to do our project,” she quickly said.

“Right after Hachi gave it?” he asked, frowning. “I didn’t know you were always this responsible. Especially since you have the whole month to finish it.”

“He asked me if we could finish early because he has a lot of things to do. He’s got a part-time job too, you know.”

“Ulquiorra, give Rukia a rest,” Shuuhei said, sighing. “We’re going to go to college next year. You should let her be more independent. She’s going to be legal soon. You both are.”

Ulquiorra frowned at him.

“And stop being so protective of her.” Shuuhei shook his head. “She can take care of herself. Rukia’s stronger that you think.”

“Right,” Rukia agreed fervently.

“I know Kurosaki-kun,” Inoue said thoughtfully. “He’s a really nice guy. He just looks scary.”

Rukia nodded fervently at that too.

“But he doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Yumichika continued as he smoothened his hair, oblivious at Ulquiorra’s stiffening. “Poor guy. He’s obviously not that beautiful like me, that’s why.”

Rukia glared at him. Ulquiorra’s face was blank as he faced Shuuhei.

“You’re going to see him later?”

“Yeah. We have the same History class.” Shuuhei nodded.

“Good. Tell him he can come around at seven,” Ulquiorra said.

“Ulquiorra?” Rukia asked tentatively.

“We’re going to give him a warm welcome, Rukia. Don’t worry.” Then, he smiled at her. Rukia stared fearfully at him before swallowing hard.

* * *

Grimmjow pushed the door of the bar later that afternoon with such brute force that the frames and posters hanging randomly on the black wall rattled on their pins. The rich aroma of alcohol could be smelled in the air. Dim, almost sexy lights dangled at equal interval across the wide, posh area, emitting a delicate glow on the frowning woman standing in the middle of the room, her right foot tapping impatiently on the floor and her arms crossed.

“You’re late,” Yoruichi stated as Grimmjow walked in, slightly limping. She paused and squinted at him. “And what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he growled.

Renji appeared behind him. “He got a nice kick in the –”

“Shut up.”

“His father’s going to kill him for not continuing their family line –”

“Shut up.”

“Ooh,” Renji smirked. “Smart comeback.”

But Yoruichi, having known these two kids from way back, simply looked at Grimmjow from head to toe for a moment, paused somewhere below his torso before she raised a delicate eyebrow.

“Grimmjow, did you just got kicked in the –”

“Shut up,” Grimmjow repeated, collapsing onto a chair and slinging his feet up onto another. “That bastard will pay for this.”

Yoruichi snorted as she threw a rag at Grimmjow, whose scowl deepened. “Whatever. I know you’re having major fertility concerns right now, but you’re already fifteen minutes late for work and I’d like the two of you to start working.” She placed a hand on her waist. “Where’s Ichigo?”

“He went to the woman’s house to do their project,” Grimmjow said sullenly as he stood up and hopped over the counter. Renji headed for the Employee’s Room, leaving his friend with the bar manager.

“Woman?”

“The bastard’s sister.”

She paused and nodded. “Oh yeah. I almost forgot. He asked me if he could take this day off.” Her lips twitched and she stared at Grimmjow amusedly. “So wait. Ichigo’s out there dating the sister of the guy who kicked you in the –?”

“I told you to shut up about it,” Grimmjow said annoyed. “And who the hell said Ichigo was dating? Ichigo _doesn’t_ date.”

“Grimmjow.” Yoruichi shook her head, looking at him sadly. “Grimmjow. Grimmjow. Grimmjow. Grimmjow.”

“Stop repeating my name. Geez, woman.”

“Grimmjow,” she said again. “Just because you don’t like girls, doesn’t mean your friends don’t like them too. Ichigo _is_ on a date.”

“What do you mean I don’t like girls? I do like them. It’s just, I haven’t met anyone who I _really_ like,” he said defensively.

“Like I said, you don’t like them.”

“Shut up. And Ichigo, if ever he would date a girl, he wouldn’t choose a monster like her.”

“She’s a monster?”

“Of course she is,” Grimmjow stared at her. “She’s the sister of the bastard who kicked me, remember?”

“Ah.” Yoruichi nodded solemnly, as if that explained everything. “Of course.”

“He’s probably having the most boring time of his life in the chick’s house,” Grimmjow mused as he reached for a rag and wiped the counter clean. He smirked. “I bet he’s regretting going there in the first place.”

* * *

On the contrary, Ichigo was not having the most boring time of his life as he stood in the middle of the Kuchiki living room. In fact, he was feeling so much anxiety and apprehension, he couldn’t help but shift his weight from one foot to another, a gesture that he had always done every time he was worried.

The moment that he arrived and rang the doorbell, there was a sudden chill that breezed through him, something that he should have taken as a hint to take off running. But because he didn’t, he was now stuck, as mentioned earlier, in the middle of the living room with two of the most stoic – and scariest – guys he had ever met before.

He knew Ulquiorra would be there. It was a granted fact, especially since he knew from their talk (or lack thereof) earlier that he was the protective kind. But Ichigo didn’t knew - never imagined - that the guy who saw him with Rangiku in the library before and accused them of doing something… not very decent, was also a Kuchiki. Yeah, granted he knew the guy was called Kuchiki Byakuya, but it didn’t cross his mind that he _might_ be actually related to them.

Because, damn it, who knew that the famous two-time Student Council president has the same genes as the groin-kicking young girl that goes by the name of Rukia?

There was something seriously wrong with this world, Ichigo decided. Or perhaps it was the Kuchiki genes like Rukia had told him.

“Um,” Ichigo began cautiously. “Hi.” This greeting was met with cold, piercing silence. He licked his lips, feeling an uncharacteristic tension before trying again. “Um. So. Nice weather.”

“Hn,” Ulquiorra grunted as he and Byakuya stared at him while they sat on the couch. Ichigo blinked awkwardly as he stood in front them. Unknown to both Grimmjow and Ichigo, Grimmjow’s premonition about the latter was becoming true. The part about Ichigo regretting coming over Rukia’s house, that is.

“I, uh,” Ichigo cleared his throat. This was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be feeling uncomfortable. He went here to do their English project for crying out loud. It wasn’t like he was asking Rukia out or something.

He shifted his foot uncomfortably at that last thought, hoping that these two weren’t able to read minds. Not that he was actually planning to do that. But really, with the way they looked at him, it was like he was planning to kidnap her, force her to marry him and then have twenty babies with her in the future. Or something suicidal like that.

“Rukia asked me to come over so we could do our project,” he tried again. He glanced at Ulquiorra. “You know, the one we were tasked to do in English class?”

“Hn,” Ulquiorra said again. He crossed his arms, still staring at him.

There was a short pause.

“Right,” Ichigo said. “Is she here?” _You know, so we could start working and make you guys stop staring at me? It’s getting freaky._ But he left those last two bits to himself. He obviously didn’t want to die yet.

“Rukia just went out to do something,” Ulquiorra finally replied after a long pause. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Ah. May I know where she went?”

“Somewhere,” Ulquiorra responded vaguely.

Well that was helpful. Ichigo nodded. “Okay. I guess I should just leave now. I mean, no point staying if -”

“You can have dinner with us,” Ulquiorra continued. “I think she’ll be here by then.”

“Dinner?” Ichigo shook his head. “Oh, no. That would be imposing on you too much. I’m fine. I could just talk to her tomorrow and –”

“ _You_ ,” Byakuya finally spoke, his deep, cold voice resounding in the room, “can have dinner with _us_ while you wait.”

His gaze bored straight into Ichigo’s, and the way the older man spoke, it was obvious it wasn’t any kind of suggestion. It was more along the lines of _‘Scream, and I’ll cut off your heart and throw it out of the window’_ type of order _._ Ichigo cleared his throat. “Well if you insist,” he said reluctantly.

The room was again filled with awkward silence.

“So um,” Ichigo scratched the back of his head, “nice couch.”

When Ulquiorra and Byakuya merely stared at him, Ichigo silently wondered whether he should have written his last will and testament before coming in their house.

* * *

Somewhere inside the Kuchiki house – inside a neat and pretty bedroom to be more precise – a certain groin-kicking young girl that goes by the name of Rukia was currently tied on a chair. There was a pink cloth stuffed in her mouth and she wriggled her hands from the necktie that was used to handcuff her to the chair, trying to release herself.

Rukia glared at the closed door, as if she could see the culprit who did this to her.

“Mnfnf!” she gritted. Which in normal language would have translated to: _Ulquiorra, you bastard. I’m going to tear your eyeballs out and make it into a kabob once I get my hands on you._

She yanked her hands furiously. “Mnfnf!” she growled. _Ulquiorra, get up here and free me this instant!_

But of course, since her beloved brother was currently downstairs interrogating Ichigo (one whom Rukia was also very concerned about because who knew what Ulquiorra had told their family about him), there was only silence that greeted this threat of hers.

She gritted her teeth and tugged angrily.

Her family’s protectiveness was getting ridiculous. Ichigo was here for school reasons. She didn’t understand why Ulquiorra felt the need to tell their whole family about it. It wasn’t like she liked the boy, or anything, which was what they were probably thinking. They were just going to do their project.

She gave a fuming tug before the chair toppled on the carpeted floor with a soft ‘thud’. Rukia moaned.

She wiggled on the floor, trying to reach the door. Then finally, after what seemed like forever, she stopped moving as she heard the sound of incoming footsteps. The door cracked open. A pair of blue-green eyes peeked inside.

“Rukia?”

“Mnfmn?” Her eyes widened. _Oh thank goodness. I’m saved._

Hitsugaya Toushiro pushed the door open to take a good look at her. He poked her with his feet, much to her chagrin. “You look stupid,” he observed frowning, his forehead furrowed. “What are you doing on the floor?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Mnfmn!” _Ulquiorra, the bastard._ Toushiro, obviously not understanding a word of what she was saying, squatted down beside her.

“Whatever. I just heard you making a lot of noise so I went over to investigate.” He gently took the pink fabric from her mouth. Rukia inhaled deeply.

“Thank you,” she croaked. “When did you arrive? And can you take the stupid necktie from my hands so I could kill Ulquiorra?”

“An hour ago,” he replied. “I’ve already done processing my papers and I’ll be staying in this country, hopefully until the rest of my college. Your father already arranged my transfer to your school, and they gave me the accelerated track so we’ll probably have some classes together. Isn’t that great?”

“Great,” she said distractedly. She wiggled her hands. “Can you take this thing off my hands please?”

“I heard your boyfriend came to see you,” he continued as he watched her, his forehead creasing as he spoke.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend. Tall. Unibrow. Orange hair. Screams attitude.”

Rukia stared at him. “He’s not my boyfriend. Whoever told you that?”

“Ulquiorra.”

“Oh God.” She closed her eyes briefly before looking at him. “Is that why he tied me here? Because he thinks Ichigo is my boyfriend?” She froze. “They’re not going to do _that_ again, are they?”

“So his name is Ichigo.”

“ _You_ are not going to do that again, are you?” she repeated in horror.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Toushiro. Get me out of here. Ichigo is just my project partner. I just met him this morning. We talked for a freaking span of twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, Toushiro. I’m not his girlfriend. He’s not – _Mnfmn_!” she said as he stuffed the cloth back in her mouth.

“You are overly protective over him, you know,” he said, his brows furrowing even further. “That’s really suspicious.”

“Mnfmn,” she gritted. _Because he doesn’t deserve to die in your hands, you sadistic morons. Get me out of here or you’ll be killing an innocent man!_

“I’ll bring your dinner in here,” he said as he stood up and headed for the door. Rukia wiggled angrily on the floor. Then, he paused at the sound of an approaching car on their driveway, the crease on his forehead slowly disappearing. “Oh, what a surprise. Your father’s here.

Rukia squeaked against the cloth on her mouth.

“Well then. I’ll come back later,” he said stepping out of the room and closing the door. “This is going to be interesting.”

“MNFMN!!”

* * *

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” Aizen Sousuke drawled as he sat on the head of the table, lazily propping his chin up on the palm of his right hand.

The Kuchiki dining table was made of strong, polished rectangular wood, and was long enough to occupy about ten people. On the right side of Aizen was Byakuya, beside him was Ulquiorra; and on the left of Aizen was a short, white-haired frowning boy whom Ichigo had never met before. Ichigo was deliberately asked to sit on the other side of the table, right across Aizen, so that he was in clear view of everybody who might want to look at him.

Saying that, there was a quite an unsettling feeling in his stomach as four piercing pair of eyes stared at him for the past ten minutes. He swallowed.

God, haven’t this family heard of _blinking_? And was staring really their family hobby or something?

“Professor Aizen,” Ichigo greeted meekly. “I didn’t know Rukia was your daughter.”

Aizen smiled at him and a chill ran down Ichigo’s spine. It was no wonder Renji was so paranoid about needing that lucky t-shirt of his. Any form of luck to deal with this man would be a gift from Heaven. There was just something seriously fucked-up about the charming smile on that handsome face. Ichigo silently prayed gratefully for having Ukitake as his history teacher. He never felt so fortunate in his life before.

“Well not exactly. I am their legal guardian though, as their parents unfortunately met their untimely demise long ago. Their father was my best friend.” Aizen paused, lazily leaning back on his seat. “But yes, you can say that I am their parent right now. I treat them like my own.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Ichigo said. “I didn’t know Rukia was an orphan. I shouldn’t have –”

“Do you want to hear how they died?” Ulquiorra suddenly spoke.

Ichigo blinked. “Erm, well, we _are_ about to have dinner,” Ichigo began cautiously, “I don’t think we should –”

“They were assassinated. Our father was a leader of underground mafia before and one of his enemies finally got to kill him along with my mother. It was very brutal, actually. There was blood all over the place. All red and gory. They used it to write a warning on the wall against any vendetta we’re planning to do against them before they cut off his heart as a trophy to the underground world that they did manage to kill the great Kuchiki leader. It’s there in their headquarters, guarded twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I haven’t gotten the chance to see it, actually. I’ve been really busy,” Ulquiorra said impassively. “It was a very sad affair. We’re still mourning because of it.”

There was a short silence. Ichigo blinked at him.

“Oh.” He reached for his glass and took a long gulp of water. “Oh. That’s… that’s really terrible. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. We can’t remember too much of it, really. Rukia was just one year old then, so it was lucky in a way that she couldn’t remember.”

Ichigo nodded and tried to smile at Rukia’s twin. “So that would also make you one year old too, right? Cause you’re twins and all,” he asked brightly, trying to lighten up the mood.

Ulquiorra stared at him before lifting the fork to his mouth.

“Right.” Ichigo nodded to himself and took a gulp of his water again. He paused and glanced at Aizen curiously. “But I thought mafia people only associate themselves with other mafia.”

Aizen simply widened his smile at him.

Right, is there anything more dramatic than saying _shit_ at this moment? Ichigo nodded mutely again.

“But that’s all in the past. Although I still do keep in touch with them every now and then,” Aizen said conversationally. He gestured at the delicious-looking plates of food in front him. “But please. Go on and eat. Byakuya’s in charge of cooking tonight. And I’m not just being a proud father, but he cooks really well.”

Ichigo eyed the luscious dishes, not really realizing that he was famished until at that moment. “Thank you,” he said as his stomach grumbled. He took his fork and reached for the chicken in front him.

“Yes, Byakuya specifically made all of that just for _you_ ,” Aizen continued nicely. That made Ichigo pause. He glanced at a staring Byakuya and – oh god, was that a murderous glint in the older man’s eyes? – slowly withdrew his fork cautiously.

“I, uh. I’m not really that hungry,” Ichigo lied, as his stomach gave another rumbling sound.

It was at this response that Ulquiorra’s face twitched (read: smirked). He reached out to take the chicken leg that Ichigo was eyeing a moment ago. He took a big bite from it, savoring its taste, as if rubbing it on Ichigo’s face that: _hah, sucker. It doesn’t have poison on it. We weren’t able to buy one this morning because the store ran out of stock._

Ichigo’s eyebrow twitched.

“So, Kurosaki Ichigo,” the white-haired spoke, frowning at him. Ichigo looked at him, glad for the distraction. “Are you in any extra-curricular activities?”

“Extra-curricular activities?”

“Yes. Like the swimming team, or the chess club? I’ve already been invited to join the Science club, math club and the _Intellectuals United_ club, which only accepts members having at least an IQ of 250, but I still haven’t decided which one to join. Maybe I’ll try them all. And what about you? Were you invited too?”

… _huh?_ Ichigo stared at him. “I don’t have any clubs at the moment.”

His frown deepened. “You don’t?”

“Toushiro,” Byakuya said impassively, “I don’t think you should expect too much from him.”

Ichigo glanced at him warily.

“Yes,” Byakuya continued, keeping his gaze on Ichigo. “For someone like Kurosaki Ichigo here, his favorite extra-curricular activity would have to do something with an older woman, a cozy room and a lot of privacy.” He paused. “Or more so, lack of privacy.”

“You know,” Ichigo said, trying his eyebrow from twitching. “What you saw before in the library with Rangiku-san? It wasn’t what you think it was –”

“Please. You do not need to explain to me the intricacy of your personal life.” Byakuya stared at him with obvious distaste. “We’re not interested with such frivolous and boring matters.”

Ichigo clenched his teeth and stretched his lips. “Of course.” _Bastard._ This man was worse than Ulquiorra. And that was saying something.

“Now, now, Byakuya. Let’s not scare the little kid,” Aizen said amusedly. “Ichigo? Can I call you Ichigo?”

“Uh yes, sir.”

“Well then, Ichigo. What brings you here in our humble home?”

“Oh, I came over so Rukia and I can do our English project. Our professor’s Hachi, so you can ask him if you want and - ”

“I see. And what do you think of my daughter?” Aizen continued conversationally.

“Excuse me?”

Aizen smiled at him again, his glasses glinting. “What do you think of our Rukia?”

Ichigo paused as the stares that came his way grew more piercing and hang on… Where did all the bread knives and forks in the table go?

“She’s very nice,” he finally said after measuring his words. “But like I said, I’m here for - ”

Byakuya calmly placed a glinting bread knife on the table.

“- our English project.” Ichigo wiped a single sweat drop from his forehead.

“Of course,” Aizen nodded. “And how do you see her physically?”

“Physically?” Ichigo echoed. He paused again. This was the make-or-break question, right? Like, if he said she’s pretty, they’ll skin him alive because they’ll think he’s hitting on her. But if he said she’s not, they’re going to kill him either way because that would make him insulting Rukia? Ichigo, for the second time that evening, briefly regretted not writing a last will and testament before coming.

“Rukia is a very –” Byakuya stared at him. Ichigo tried again.

“Rukia is someone who is –” Ulquiorra watched him intently with those creepy green eyes. Ichigo blinked.

“She’s very –” Toushiro’s frown deepened.

“Yes?” Aizen prompted pleasantly.

Ichigo took a deep breath. He should really get a grip on himself. Why would he let these guys scare him when he’s not even doing anything wrong? Or planning one, either. He just came for the stupid English project and not for an interrogation that would rival those of a military hearing. Did he look like a freaking terrorist to them? He glanced at his watch and knew that it was too late for them to do anything tonight.

“Rukia is a very pretty girl and I’m sure she’s very nice. But like I said, I only came here for us to do our project,” he finally said, his voice firm, frowning at them. “So I would really appreciate it if you stop asking me all these questions because I am not going to do anything bad to her.”

Silence.

“Well,” Aizen said, looking slightly amused. “Well. That’s the first time the person we asked didn’t squeaked. Or ran off shouting bloody murder.”

“Or burst into tears,” Ulquiorra added, sounding disappointed. “Or fainted. Or dropped unconscious on the floor.”

Ichigo blinked. _Huh?_

Aizen reached for his spoon and fork and smiled at Ichigo. “Now that fun is over, shall we get started with dinner?” he asked. “Toushiro, could you please pass the salt?”

 _Fun?_ Ichigo stared at him, still not able to move because well. Was that _supposed_ to befun _?_

“I must say Byakuya, you really outdid yourself with this one,” Toushiro remarked, taking a big bite of a chicken he got earlier.

Ulquiorra nodded in agreement.

“Thank you,” Byakuya said blankly as he took a sip of his soup. “I got the recipe from Martha Stewart’s website.”

“I like Martha Stewart,” Aizen said in approval.

Byakuya nodded. “I’ll try one from Oprah next time.”

Ichigo still couldn’t believe it. “Wait. Wait a minute.” He blinked. “You made me sit here so you could ask me those stupid questions - for _fun_? This,” he shrilled, “was fun??”

“Ichigo.” Aizen smiled pleasantly at him. “I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to actually come here and ask Rukia for a date. Because that would be a completely different matter, right, Ulquiorra?”

“Like over our dead body,” Ulquiorra agreed solemnly. He paused. “Or yours,” he added thoughtfully.

“If someone would want to ask Rukia out on a date, they should be more than ready,” Aizen said, his glasses glinting ominously under the kitchen light and his voice deepening with all trace of pleasantry gone. And if Ichigo squinted further, he would have seen a strange, dark red aura surrounding him. “Because _that_ would be no laughing matter.”

There was a cold, sharp silence that greeted this pronouncement. It took all of Ichigo’s dignified effort not to let out an uncharacteristic squeak.

“Right,” Ichigo finally said. He stretched his lips in what he hoped looked like a friendly, innocent smile as he reached for his glass of water. “It was a good thing I wasn’t here to ask her out for a date then. Hahahaha. Ha.”

Aizen, Ulquiorra, Toushiro, and Byakuya simultaneously did a very scary thing:

They all smiled at him.

Ichigo unceremoniously choked on his drink.

And before he could do or say anything further, there was a loud thud that came from the second floor, and the sound of rushing footsteps down the stairs made all them glance at the door. Rukia appeared panting, a pink cloth still stuffed on her mouth. She glared at Ulquiorra as she yanked it off and stomped on it on the ground.

“Ulquiorra,” she said in a deathly whisper.

“Where have you been Rukia? Dinner started a few minutes ago,” Aizen said disapprovingly.

“You are _so_ going down,” she continued in that hoarse voice, pointing an accusing finger at her twin, who merely continued with his soup. “I am going to take those eyeballs of yours and cook it for breakfast. Then, I am going to cut off your lungs, hang it outside my window and let the pigeons feed on it. Then I’m going to sell your remaining body parts to Uncle Mayuri and –”

Toushiro cleared his throat. Rukia glared at him, but he simply jerked his thumb towards Ichigo’s direction. Rukia followed his gaze and blinked when she saw Ichigo looking at her. She froze.

“Ichigo?” she asked incredulously, not bothering to hide her surprise. “Ichigo? _You’re still here_?”

* * *

“I’m really sorry,” Rukia was saying as they stood just outside the Kuchiki door. “I didn’t know what they said to you, but I’m really sorry. They tend to be… overprotective when I meet a guy. I’m the only girl in the family, you see. And nii-sama always told me that I was father’s favorite. I really think they took my dad’s position to heart.”

“Ah.” Ichigo nodded. “I understand. I mean, I’m an older brother too. I have two younger sisters and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them. But you know, just out of personal experience, sometimes it doesn’t really help to threaten your sister’s friends because you can really traumatize them when in fact they were just in your house to do a school project.”

“Right,” she said slowly.

“And to have your sister’s friends to have dinner at your place when everyone knows you can easily put poison on their food? Well, that wouldn’t exactly be a good memory when they grow up,” he continued calmly, clenching his fist.

“Ichigo, I –”

“And to tell a very morbid experience like why your mafia parents died isn’t really a good idea to share in the middle of eating dinner either,” he went on, his brows furrowing further.

She stared.

“So.” Ichigo took a deep breath. “So anyway. What are we talking about again?”

“Um. Why is my family’s a bit protective over me?”

“Ah.” He nodded calmly. “Right.”

She blinked at him for a moment before shrugging. “Well anyway, that’s that.” She squinted at him. “I’m really surprised you didn’t ran off. Every time I was assigned to have a male partner, my family tends to do that little interrogating-thing. You know, to scare off my partners and I would be forced to work with Ulquiorra instead because no one would want to be paired with me.”

“You must have had a tough life in school before,” he remarked.

She sighed. “You have no idea. That’s why I have very few people I can call friends. Because most of the people I meet are too scared of my family.”

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” he said. Being an anti-social person himself, he could completely understand what that felt like. He paused as he shoved his hands inside his pants’ pocket. And before his mind could process the words that wanted to come out of his mouth, he spoke, “If you want, I can be your friend.”

Rukia stared at him. “Really?” she asked hopefully. “I mean, you don’t have to force yourself, you know.”

“No. It’s perfectly fine. I’d love to be your friend,” he assured her. Which was true, if one would just overlook the fact that her entire family was a group of hungry and bloodthirsty predators, and he was the prey. She gave him an odd, soft look and Ichigo uncomfortably scratched the back of his head. He never knew being friendly could make one feel so awkward.

“That would be nice,” she murmured, a small smile crossing her face. He stared at her for a moment before the corner of his lips curved upward.

“Anyway,” he began brightly, changing the topic. “Who was that white shorty during dinner? Your younger brother?”

“Shorty?” She stared. “Oh you mean Toushiro? Nah, he’s my cousin. He just came back from Europe. He’s wants to take up law next year.”

“He’s also a senior?” Ichigo asked incredulously. “How old exactly is he?”

“Thirteen,” she replied vaguely, counting off with her fingers. “He’s a genius and he’s been accelerated four times, so he’s in our year. Just like nii-sama and Ulquiorra before… although Ulquiorra didn’t take the accelerated track now because he said he didn’t want to leave me alone.” She shrugged. “Hey. Maybe we’ll have classes with Toushiro. Isn’t that great?”

Oh yeah, that was just great. So basically, Ichigo just ate dinner with three certified geniuses and one famous (terror) professor and did he show any signs of intellectual prowess while he was having a conversation with them?

Oh, no. He was too busy trying to make sure that the chicken he was eating didn’t have poison on it. He was really getting good at making himself look like a fool. Too bad it didn’t have any prize money that came along with it.

“I think I’m actually the least special person in our entire family,” she was saying in a faraway voice and Ichigo had to focus his attention on her to hear everything she was saying. “But I guess every family has their own black sheep, or something.” She laughed humorlessly.

“Don’t say that,” Ichigo said frowning. “I think you’re a very special girl.”

There was a short, awkward silence that followed.

“I mean,” Ichigo continued quickly, hoping against hope that her family didn’t hear that last bit and jump to conclusion, and by gods, haven’t hired an assassin to kill him yet. “You’re a nice girl. And you’re smart. I don’t think your family thinks of you that way. You know, that you’re different from them. They love you very much.”

Rukia blinked as she rubbed her arms in an effort to keep herself warm from the cold night air. Ichigo silently berated himself for not bringing a jacket as she looked up at him. “Thanks,” she said quietly. Then, “Anyway, I’m sorry we didn’t get to do anything today. Perhaps, tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Ichigo squeaked. He coughed and cleared his throat. “I’m going to go back here tomorrow?”

Her face fell. She bit her lip. “Or if you don’t want to, we could just, you know, talk to Professor Hachi and tell him you want to exchange partners –”

God, what was Ichigo thinking? Didn’t she just tell him that she didn’t have any friends and that people didn’t like her because they were too scared of her family? He wouldn’t be any different from those people if he agrees with what she was saying.

“No,” he cut in. “It’s fine. I… can work here.” He crossed his fingers behind his back.

She smiled gratefully. “I’ll see if I can squeeze in a meeting tomorrow lunch, so you don’t have to come here anymore. I’m not sure but… I’ll really try.”

“That would be great,” he said, thinking in relieved how he would not have to deal with her homicidal family members. He paused at this thought. “Rukia. I was wondering. The Kuchiki is not that big a family, right? I mean, you don’t have anymore… interesting cousins or uncles?” he asked casually. “Or you know, brothers that I haven’t met before?”

“Ah well. About that.” She drew a sharp breath, causing her bangs to flutter slightly. “My family’s… not the ordinary type that you know. Especially since dad’s background isn’t that normal either.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Let’s just say that from where I came from, it doesn’t matter whether you’re blood-related or not. It’s the bond that makes you family.”

He stared at her, feeling the sudden chill creeping down his spine. He swallowed hard. “Are you talking about… the mafia thing?” he whispered hoarsely.

She smiled brightly at him. “Oh you know,” she beamed.

He blinked. _Oh god_ , he thought in horror. _What have I gotten myself into? I don’t want to die yet. I still don’t want to die. I still don’t want to –_

“Ichigo?” Rukia peeked at him curiously. “Are you all right?”

“I still don’t want to die,” he blurted out.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I really, _really_ need to get home,” he corrected hastily.

She nodded. “Yeah, you really should better go back to your place now,” she said, glancing at the apartment across her house. “It’s getting late and your friends must be worried about you.”

“You should go in too, or your brothers might think I’m doing something with you in here.” _And god forbid they’ll send in an assassin while I’m sleeping_ , he added silently.

She chuckled. “You’re right. They might even send an assassin in your place while you’re sleeping,” she said lightly, oblivious to Ichigo stiffening. She turned and walked back to the door. She pushed it open and stepped inside. “Good night Ichigo.”

“Good night Rukia.”

She smiled at him before closing the door.

* * *

At exactly the same moment, inside one of the Kuchiki rooms, four pairs of eyes were quietly watching the scene.

“Ulquiorra,” Aizen said thoughtfully as Toushiro closed the blinds, “what do you think?”

“I think we should cut his intestines out and shove it down his throat,” Ulquiorra said calmly. “Trash like him who are going to destroy themselves in the future are not meant to pollute my sister’s soul.”

Toushiro frowned at him. “That’s illegal, Ulquiorra. We might get in jail,” he reminded. “Why can’t we just give his profile and address to uncle Mayuri?”

“He’s going to be busy until next week,” Byakuya said tonelessly. “I already called him an hour ago.”

“Uncle Gin, then?”

“Out of the country.”

Aizen slightly raised a perfect eyebrow in amusement. “Well in that case, I leave it all up to you boys.” He smiled at them. “Keep an eye on those two for me, will you?”

A chorus of “As you wish” and “Yes, uncle Aizen” and a typical Byakuya-grunt filled the quiet room in response.

* * *

Grimmjow and Renji looked up as Ichigo entered their apartment room and headed for his bed.

“Oi Ichigo,” Renji began from his place on the floor, his mouth full of food. “We ordered pizza. Do you want to –”

“No,” came Ichigo’s curt reply.

Pause.

“Okaay. We’re watching _Jackass_. It’s really amazing. We’re going to rewind it if you like –”

“No.”

Another pause. Renji worriedly glanced at Grimmjow beside him who shrugged. Because, seriously, who in their right mind would say no to _Jackass_?

Grimmjow took a large bite of his pizza slice before speaking. “Ichigo, did something happen in–”

“No.”

Grimmjow and Renji watched as Ichigo took off his shoes, pushed it under the bed, crawled on his bed, then buried himself under the blanket.

“Good night,” Ichigo said.

“Good night,” Grimmjow and Renji echoed as Ichigo turned on his bed. They looked at each other.

 _Something happened,_ Renji mouthed.

 _I know,_ Grimmjow mouthed back.

 _What the hell do you think happened in that house?_ Renji asked.

 _Probably the bastard’s fault,_ Grimmjow mouthed grimly. _He’s really an asshole. We should really poison him as soon as possible._

 _You’re being biased,_ Renji told him.

 _No. Its called strategic planning,_ Grimmjow retorted.

They glanced at Ichigo’s sleeping back before a silent agreement passed between them.

 _I think we should keep an eye on him just in case,_ Renji mouthed.

 _Just in case,_ Grimmjow agreed, nodding as he reached for the hot sauce.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really, REALLY want to continue this. =( But um. Well, I'll just leave it like this in the meantime.


End file.
